


A Bucky Odyssey

by inediblesushi, ishre_yann



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inediblesushi/pseuds/inediblesushi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishre_yann/pseuds/ishre_yann
Summary: Bucky Barnes, Captain America, has a plan to make Steve Rogers, SHIELD nurse, fall in love with him. Confiding in the Internet might not be the best idea, though. So when the bad pick up lines do not work and Steve looks determined to staying single, he decides to be more himself and less what he thinks he should be.





	A Bucky Odyssey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inediblesushi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inediblesushi/gifts).



> Oh my god, I made it!!  
> I cannot possibly express my gratitude to [@inediblesushi](https://inediblesushi.tumblr.com/) and [@mific](https://mific.tumblr.com/) for both the ideas and the editing. I was so lucky to be able to claim this art and I really hope I honored it. I wasn't sure I could go over the 7k because of my busy schedule, but apparently Stucky does wonders and so does Mific.  
> This fic was written for the Cap RBB 2017 (I still can't believe it *cries*)  
>   
> credits to inediblesushi (*flailing*)

Bucky was pretty good during missions, especially when he and Nat had a who-kills-more-Nazis contest. But this time, Bucky had to make sure of something. He had to make sure that he was just injured enough so he'd get sent over to the SHIELD infirmary.

Fury was, indeed, furious that he'd been so reckless, although it was kind of for a good reason. Well, two good reasons: his team _and_ his peace of mind. He'd been preparing this for so long, he couldn't even remember when the last time was that he'd slept without thinking about it.

Specifically, Bucky'd been thinking about it the moment he spotted a very pretty nurse some months ago. It wasn't just the nurse's cute frown whenever he caught Bucky hanging around outside the infirmary, giving him his best smile. Just as it wasn't the way the nurse rolled his eyes that time Bucky bumped into him and helped him pick up all his papers, which had flew all over the place. It wasn't his soft blonde hair and baby-blue eyes, or his pale skin and long and slender fingers. It was most definitely _not_ all those details that made Bucky go crazy.

So, let's say Bucky understood why Blondie didn't exactly like him. Since he'd interupted whatever Blondie was trying to get on with, just to get his name. Even though Bucky'd been trying to help with all those heavy papers. He'd made a mistake and Blondie was angry at him; that was reasonable. Bucky'd be angry, too, if someone screwed with him during a mission.

What Bucky didn't understand was the scowl that had been shot at him before Blondie grabbed his papers and rushed away down the hallway.

“I can do it myself,” Blondie'd said, giving Bucky a hard look.

So Bucky had asked Natasha for help, because he didn't know what had gone wrong. When that happened, when he went to Nat for “idiotic stuff like this” (as Nat liked to call it), it meant that Bucky was desperate. Of course, Natasha knew the cause of Bucky's torment and just laughed at him when he begged her to help him.

Well, not really begged. Bucky still had some dignity in him, although he did say please a few times. It wasn't like he didn't _expect_ Nat to seize any opportunity and make a fool out of him.

“You sure you wanna do it the old way, Barnes?” she'd asked.

“What old way! Charm's not somethin' that ages, 's just something I do,” he'd replied, winking.

Then, Nat laughed again teased him about something else, and in the blink of an eye, she'd distracted Bucky from his original purpose – as it was what usually happened with her. It took him a solid month to get her to talk about Blondie again.

Nat and Steve – that was Blondie's name – were friends and Steve had asked her not talk about him away with anyone he didn't like. Which meant, apparently, that _Bucky_ was one of the people Steve didn't like.

“Gee, Nat, c'mon! You gotta help a man out! You know 'm not a knucklehead. He just don't know me!”

Thing was, Nat agreed too that Steve had got it wrong about Bucky. The two of them had a lot of arguments over whether Bucky was a good guy or not. Steve didn't get why Nat was friends with Bucky, Nat didn't get why Steve _wasn't_ friends with him. So Bucky cut a deal with Nat.

He'd have one shot to prove Steve wrong, and if he did prove Steve wrong, Nat'd be able to say “I told you so” – and everyone knew how much Nat loved to say that.

So here Bucky was, sitting on the side of a hospital bed – which was too small for him. Every time he moved, the damn thing squeaked, so he tried to keep still. The room was just like all the other infirmary rooms he'd seen. Or at least, that he'd seen in this century. He was sitting here because Steve had told him to, before leaving the room to grab some stuff he needed. Five solid minutes had passed and Steve still wasn't showing.

Bucky still wanted to make a good impression on Steve, so he had to play along with the good boy act – at least for now. Since _that_ didn't work the first time with Steve, Bucky'd thought up some ideas on how to approach this whole thing.

It turned out, when he looked into it, that he didn't really know a lot about how people picked up others, in this century. He remembered perfectly how to pick girls up back in the day, but couldn't make it work here in the future. Every time he pulled the old gentlemanly charm act, only old ladies gave him any attention.

Not that he had anything against old ladies. He liked them, they reminded him of Peggy and the way she still looked at him sometimes, on good days when she could remember what they went through during the war. He sure remembered how she'd saved him from that HYDRA facility after his pod was found (with him inside) after the experiments. He liked Peggy, always had, mostly because he could flirt with her and it would stay uncomplicated; they were just good friends.

Anyway, it turned out that flirting was a much a bigger deal in the 21st Century, a lot more subtler – but not _too_ subtle, otherwise no one would understand. Bucky reckoned he was definitely too subtle to be understood by most of the people he'd tried it with. Excluding Nat, of course, who was a whole different deal, and a very much longer story.

When he asked Nat to practice flirting with him, she couldn't keep a straight face when he turned to the “old school” charm. She also mocked the shit out of him, just like she usually kicked his ass in training. Everything was training for Nat, even flirting. She'd been, in fact, ruthless and very thorough in making Bucky feel like he needed to upgrade his repertoire.

The Internet was what saved him. Just a week before the mission, he discovered about a whole new universe of dating websites and tips on how to get someone you liked to notice you. Bucky even took thorough notes from the best websites he could find, and he studied them. Well, “studied”—

The door opened again, letting in a small bundle of frustration. Bucky's was immediately distracted from whatever nonsense he'd been thinking about. He was _not_ repeating the lines in his head.

Steve was wearing glasses that day and his hair was as neat as always - blond locks on the top with a darker (and very cute) undercut. Steve kind of made Bucky always thought about a cute puppy with a knife in their paws and a very angry expression (he saw that _meemee_ -thing on the Internet, of course). He was wearing his usual nurse uniform, with a bunch of pens clipped to the upper pocket. Bucky stared as Steve put on his latex gloves with efficient snaps.

Bucky was in his usual uniform as well – torn and dirty, as always. He'd shielded a civilian from an explosion with both his metal arm and flesh one, so his flesh arm got a bit burnt and cut with all the flying debris. Luckily for him and not so luckily for HYDRA, his metal arm was still functioning after the explosion – and Bucky was ambidextrous. So he'd saved the civilian and then proceeded to kill and knock out all the remaining HYDRA agents. Some they'd needed alive, for interrogation.

“Hold up your arm,” Steve said. He stalked closer, his face a mixture of indifference and scepticism. He dragged over a stool and a trolley with a bunch of stuff on it – bandages, disinfectant, some cotton wool, even a needle and suturing thread – although Bucky probably wouldn't need it, with his healing factor.

Bucky raised his arm and kept it there. His skin was darkened where the explosion had burned his uniform, even where the skin had been sheltered by his metal arm, it was reddened. The worst cut was on his forearm, right under his wrist, where a cinder block had gashed him. That'd hurt like hell and he'd sworn a blue streak – probably shocking the civilian he was shielding.

“Hold still.” Another instruction from Steve.

“Aye, aye, Capt'n,” Bucky said – smiling.

Steve gave him a very unamused look – then went back to cleaning the wound. This time, he pressed a bit and Bucky muttered and grimaced. Still, he figured he'd give it a shot. “By the way, we didn't introduce properly – name's Bucky.”

Steve looked at him for a moment, then went back to work. “What kind of name 's that?”

“The kind of name friends call me by,” Bucky said. “What's yours?”

Steve paused for a moment, before sighing and continuing his work. Once the cleaning was over, he carefully watched the wound. He still didn't reply, but Bucky was determined to keep the conversation going.

“So. . .how much time do you have, before you go back to heaven?” Bucky asked.

He almost felt like he was jumping off a cliff trying that line, because Steve stopped anything that he was doing and raised his head with something like shock on his face.

“Excuse me?”

Bucky took Steve's surprise as a compliment – after all, it wasn't like Captain America himself asked you out every day of the week. “Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.”

“Really, now?” Damn, and there he was, back to unimpressed Steve.

“Yeah. Y'know, you're a cute boy – and I'm into cute boys. So I asked myself, why not give it a try?” Bucky explained – sweating a little.

Steve didn't reply, his eyebrow raised up as high as possible. Then he huffed, and shook his head. “Look, I'm only doing this because it's my job, alright?” He frowned. “No offense, but you're really not my type.”

He took Bucky's arm again and started rolling the bandages down his forearm. “No stitches needed, by the way. You're already healing.”

“Oh, c'mon, don't go all serious on me,” Bucky fake-whined. When Steve just looked at him, Bucky gave him his best puppy eyes. “Pretty please?”

“Y'know, just because you're Captain friggin' America doesn't mean everyone's gonna fall to their knees whenever you decide you feel like it,” Steve said, something hard back in his face. He went back to the bandages.

Bucky kept quiet for a bit, wincing at Steve's complete rejection. What did he do, now? He'd even been complimenting the guy. “You make it sound like you don't even like me,” he tried eventually, faking nonchalance.

“Well, look at that, you can take a hint,” Steve shot back.

Bucky frowned. “I don't see why you don't like me – we didn't even really talk.”

Steve seemed to be searching for a reply. He tightened the bandages on Bucky's wrist a bit too much. “Well, sometimes I don't need to talk to people to know how self-centred they are,” he said.

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Pal, I'm the least self-centred person on Earth.”

Steve stared at him.

Bucky rocked his metal arm a bit. “Well, okay, maybe a _bit_ self-centred, but that's just common sense! . . . And it's part of that whole 'accept yourself' thing.”

Steve still looked unimpressed, as always.

“Okay, you tell me,” Bucky asked. “What do I gotta do to prove you wrong?”

Steve snorted. “Oh no, you're not getting out of this the easy way.”

Bucky's eyebrows raised. He tried not to stare, although it was difficult not to when he could see some Steve this close. In this case, the way Steve's lips moved – even if it only was to express sarcasm.

“Earth to Captain Barnes, do you copy?”

Bucky blinked back to awareness. “Whoops, sorry.”

“You were practically drooling,” Steve said.

“What?!” Bucky panicked a bit. Maybe he'd looked like a complete idiot in front of Steve – he didn't want that.

Steve laughed. “You should've seen your face!”

Bucky surreptitiously checked his face in case he _had_ been drooling _,_ but there was nothing except for dried blood. He guessed he didn't look too great after the explosion.

“You're a smartass, ain't ya?” Bucky said, blinking back at Steve.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Okay, we're done here. Off you go,” he said and then started taking off his gloves.

Bucky was up in a second. “I still haven't heard a 'yes',” he said – smiling wickedly.

“'Course you didn't,” Steve said, grabbing the trolley. “You haven't asked anything.”

Bucky's face lit up. “Can I take you out for dinner?” he asked with an edge of hope in his voice. Not too much, he had to play it cool.

Steve turned and looked Bucky straight in the eye, then smiled. “No,” he replied.

[. . .]

Bucky was watching TV without actually following whatever the hell was going on in the show. He was wearing dark grey sweatpants and a sweater, his hair was pulled up in a messy bun. He slept as much as he could, once he was home. Missions usually did that to him; undisturbed sleep. A neglected blue mug, still with some coffee in it, was staring at him from the table – right near one of his feet. The couch was too comfortable to stand up and go prepare some food, so he just did what he did every time he was back from a mission. He waited for Nat to show up.

Sure enough, Nat turned up, and was now making pop-corn in the kitchen. He could hear the fast succession of pop's and smell the warm scent of toasted corn and butter. It wasn't like he and Nat lived together, it was more that they shared their apartments as if they were the other's second home. They had a copy of each other's keys, and the old granny, Bucky's neighbour, was sure they still were together and always gave Bucky knowing looks when they met on the stairs. The thing was, though, they'd stopped the whole in-love thing a long time ago.

It wasn't exactly a bad decision, nor a good or easy one. Bucky reckoned he loved Nat even more after they'd discussed it, and found how he loved cuddles and snuggles more than sex, these days. His therapist was also on about how he had to work out his baggage from his old days. Stuff like, very specific ideas on how a man should behave, what he should like and what he should do.

Especially with his sexuality.

“You're doing the dead-mullet stare again,” Nat said, walking back into the living room and putting a huge bowl of pop-corn in Bucky's lap.

Bucky blinked. “He said no.” He knew Nat was indirectly asking how it'd gone with Steve. “We were joking and smiling and then boom, he was an ice-box again.”

Nat smiled slightly, then dropped down onto the couch with her own bowl of pop-corn. She also put on some radio program, instead of the – wat was it, a soap opera he'd been watching? She sighed. “Okay, I'll ask it again. You sure you want to do this the old way, Barnes?”

“Because that's definitely what I did, you think?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

Nat shook her head and ate some pop-corn. “Alright, what did you do?”

Bucky told her what he did, in detail, because he had the soul of a Gossip Girl sometimes, as Tony liked to put it. Nat kept silent for the whole tale, but Bucky could tell she was making mental notes. . .like, a lot. Huh. He must've fucked up big time.

“Want to know what I think?” Nat asked, as soon as Bucky was done.

He nodded.

“You fucked up.”

“No fucking shit, Sherlock. Tell me something I don't know,” Bucky said.

Nat raised her eyebrows. Bucky sighed and shut up. “You fucked up right from the start,” Nat continued, everything about her saying 'I told you so'. “If _I_ wanted to pick Steve Rogers up, I wouldn't take him for granted.”

Bucky opened his mouth to say something. Then, he closed it again when Nat glared at him. “How about you try leading with something different than 'look how cool my abs are'?” she asked.

“What? I didn't do that,” Bucky said.

“That you know of, _and_ you wouldn't have done it directly. He's stubborn, but not unreasonable. You should try a different approach, maybe something less douch-ey and more – I don't know – yourself.”

Bucky crunched a whole handful of pop-corn, filled with frustration. They'd tangled their legs in the meanwhile, and Bucky was warming his feet under Nat's thigh – as well as she was doing with Bucky. The conversation died, Nat had given Bucky some hard thinking to do, and Nat herself wasn't that much chatty.

The music channel became then a talk show, then the last episode of _13 Reasons Why_ , then Nat changed with something cheerier – which was good, because Bucky'd had his fair share of death and destruction for the time being. That was how they ended up watching _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy,_ and then _The Martian_. Again.

[. . .]

Bucky, thanks to Nat's support, was determined to try again. He didn't want to be annoying, so he kept it down for few days.

Then, he was back at the infirmary, waiting for Steve. Who was, of course, annoyed by Bucky's persistence.

“Can I show you the prettiest guy I've ever seen?” Bucky'd asked one day, and then showed Steve the phone with the frontal camera on. He won the 'eye roll of the year', right before being scoffed out of the place.

“There's something wrong with my cell phone. Can you help a fellow?” He'd ask another day, trying to get Steve to actually stop and listen to him. “It doesn’t have your number in it.” Steve just scowled and walked off.

One time, Bucky managed to catch Steve in the hallway. “Are you a magician?” He tried. “Because whenever I look at you everyone else disappears.”

At this point, Steve couldn't get more impressed. “Ugh.”

“Hey! That counts as an answer!” Bucky said, a little desperately. It felt like victory, although it really wasn't – and Bucky knew that. Still, that time Steve smiled and shook his head, before walking away with his usual “gotta work” excuse.

In the next few days, Bucky kept “accidentally” crossing Steve's path. He used those small moments to chat with him, before Steve once more stormed off with vague indignation on his face and some variation of “I'm late for work” line.

At least Steve didn't avoid him, but nor did he seek Bucky out. It felt like Bucky was chasing someone who enjoyed being chased. Bucky was going to thank Nat if he ever managed a date one of these days. Maybe it was just him, but he felt his approaches were working. Every passing day Steve would stay a bit longer, listen to Bucky's stupidity a bit more and sometimes almost laugh.

Maybe Steve would give in (without really giving in, if Bucky read him right) and agree to go out with Bucky. At least one time, just to see how things turned out. Bucky was determined to keep trying.

“Your eyes are blue, like the ocean. And—”

“Oh for God's sake, will you please shut up!”

Bucky wasn't easily put off. “Baby, I'm lost at sea.”

“Oh my God!” Steve's face was red with frustration. This time, he really was trying to run away from Bucky – although he wasn't quite running, more like walking faster so it would only look like he was in a hurry.

The corridor was mostly empty because it was almost lunch time and most of the personnel had a break then. Only some doctors or senior staff stayed and overworked. Bucky was in casual clothes, since he wasn't on a mission, and he'd been work out with Nat half an hour before. It was the usual light-grey sweatpants and a large, dark blue hoodie. Steve was neat-haired, with polished glasses and wearing his light-blue nurse's uniform, with with his badge and a SHIELD patch on his sleeve.

Bucky laughed. “C'mon, that wasn't _that_ bad,” he said. “You could've at least reacted a bit.” He smiled again. “Y'know? Like this.” He put the back of his hand on his forehead, and did a fake-swoon.

Steve stopped abruptly, then turned and punch Bucky's metal arm, right under his shoulder. Or rather, he tried to, although he was too small and definitely too weak to do anything. Bucky saw pain in Steve's eyes as they widened.

“Are you crazy? Do you wanna break your wrist?” Bucky asked, reaching to help Steve with his hand.

Steve glared at him. “ _Ow!_ What the fuck are you built with? Bricks?”

“Well, actually no, it's—”

“I take it back. Don't answer that.”

Bucky frowned.

“Ouch!”

Bucky was still surprised – and confused. “Why would you punch me?”

“Why wouldn't you dodge it!” Steve's face was flushed, his brows furrowed. He looked outraged.

Then, Steve stepped forward, still scowling. “And since we're here, why the fuck do you keep stalking me? I said no, do I have to tell you in Irish? Or do I have to learn Russian for you to understand!”

Bucky fell silent, his eyebrows raised. He was disconcerted, but not offended. Something had clicked into place for him in the past few moments and he figured he had to address it. “Something wrong?” he asked.

For a moment, he was worried Steve would explode. But instead, Steve just gasped a little and then started choking on. . .well, nothing, really. Bucky didn't quite know what was happening, but he knew he didn't like the sounds Steve was making.

“Hey,” Bucky said as he inched closer, his voice was filled with concern.

Steve stumbled away, still trying to breathe. Bucky felt powerless at this umpteenth refusal. Then Steve quickly drew something from his pocket and put it in his mouth. He pressed a couple of times and inhaled, breathing deeply. An inhaler. It took Steve two more deep breaths to get back to normal.

Bucky watched as Steve straightened up and smoothed down his uniform, before putting the inhaler back. Still, Steve was avoiding Bucky's eyes.

“You okay?” Bucky asked. _S_ _tupid question, Barnes._ “Need something?” he tried again.

Steve stared back at him and hesitated, before turning away. Bucky spotted what looked like guild. “No. . .I'm fine, thanks,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, it definitely looked and sounded like you were fine,” Nat had told him he tended to hide his feelings with sarcasm. When he realised he coughed and added, “I mean, but if you say so, I trust you.”

Steve brushed his hair and then winced again.

“Can I at least look at your hand?” Bucky asked again, holding out his own hand to Steve.

Steve tilted his head back, looking at Bucky appraisingly. Then, he turned again to face Bucky and held out his hand so Bucky could check it.

Bucky held Steve's hand with careful touch – he turned a bit to see if Steve could move it and check if there were any swelling. He was surprised to find it cold – and softer than he imagined. They kept silent for all the time it took Bucky to make sure Steve was okay. Eventually, he let go of Steve's hand - it was okay, maybe a bit reddened, but Steve could still move all the fingers.

“'S not like the first time I punch someone,” Steve muttered a little grumpily.

“Right, sure.” Bucky said reluctantly. “Why did you punch me?” He asked again.

Steve averted his eyes. “You were being annoying.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows.

“And I'm a bit stressed, okay? Happy?” Steve's face was getting red again.

Bucky sighed. “Look, pal, I'm sorry if I bothered you – you shoulda said so. Last thing I want is to annoy you.”

“Yeah well, it didn't really look like it. You spent the last week basically _stalkin'_ me,” Steve fired back. “Sorry I punched you, but it's not like you stopped flirting after I said I wasn't interested.”

Bucky stilled for a moment, blinking. He stopped to think for a moment, and then. . .oh. “Back to the 'look how cool my abs are' again, huh?” he said distractedly.

“What?”

“Yeah, no, nothin'. Nat told me, but I'm bad at. . .well, this whole thing, ain't I?” Bucky sighed, reaching up to brush some strands of hair back.

“At least you're honest about it,” Steve said. “Also, what is it that Nat told you? And how do you two even know each other?”

“She, um, kinda helped me back into- well, into this century,” Bucky said.

“Oh. Right.”

Steve looked a bit uncomfortable, but at least he was still talking to Bucky. Seconds passed and the silence stretched between them. Bucky decided to cough again and break the ice. Properly, this time.

“Okay, let's” he gestured with his hands, big circles, open palms. “Let's wax-off this whole week and start over, huh? How 'bout that?”

Steve raised his eyebrows. Then he nodded. “Okay.”

_Yeah, way to go with the Karate Kid reference, Barnes. Great move_ _._

Steve seemed to be waiting for something, and Bucky took his silence as a hint he should start the whole thing over. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “So, hey, nice to meet you – name's Bucky,” he said, then offered his hand.

Steve's lips curled up. “Right, Bucky. . .”

“What?”

Steve snorted a bit. “It still sounds like some Border Collie's name.” He smirked and hid his mouth with his hand. His eyes drifted to the side a bit, then went wide. “Shit, I'm really late this time!”

Bucky turned, saw the digital clock on the wall. “Oh, sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. Just. . .shift’s over in a three of hours. West entrance?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded, smiling, and waved his hand. “I'll be there. Go on.”

Steve nodded and waved, before sprinting off down the hallway. In the distance, Bucky could hear his voice as he apologised for the delay.

[...]

Bucky was waiting right outside the infirmary west entrance in the Triskelion. Steve was late, probably as he'd had to make up the fifteen minutes he'd lost earlier. Bucky'd brought a coffee with him. He used the time he had to think over what had happened.

Somewhere between his flirting and the punch, he'd fucked up. It took him a while, but he finally figured it out. Nat had told him not to treat Steve as some sort of dame, but he probably still had. So the punch was deserved, and apologies were in order. Like, a proper apology. He'd said he was sorry before, but he hadn't really understood.

“Earth to sleeping beauty, do you copy?”

Bucky blinked.

Steve was in front of him. He was wearing casual clothes and Bucky almost didn't recognise him, since he wasn't used to seeing Steve without his uniform. Steve was wearing a light-blue shirt and khakis, with dark brown loafers. His hair was brushed backwards, off forehead. The big, square glasses contributed to his hipster-ish look. Bucky’s stomach churned. Steve was about to snap his fingers when Bucky blinked again and blurted out “you look good!”

Steve was silent for a few seconds, then his face went red and his eyes widened. “I, what?” he asked.

Bucky gestured at him. “Your looks. . .y'know, the way you appear. 's beautiful,” he said. He almost smiled, but kept his cool.

“Oh, ah. Hah. Funny you.” Steve stuck his tongue out. “Thanks.”

Bucky couldn't contain his smile anymore. He could feel his lips curling up, and could see Steve's face going red again as he looked away.

Steve cleared his throat. “Right, so. . .”

“I wanted to apologise.” Bucky interrupted – he didn't really think about it. He'd just said it.

Steve stared at him, confusion on his face. “No, um, I should apologise.”

Buck's brows raised.

“For punching you? Did you already forget about it?”

Bucky tilted his head on one side, pretending to be trying to remember.

“Really?!” Steve raised his arm, looking shocked.

Bucky laughed, throwing his head back. “I'm sorry, I was just joking. Thanks though, it was really nothing. How's your hand?” He looked back at Steve, and caught him smiling – right before a facepalm hid Steve's expression. _Oh, you're such a bad liar,_ Bucky thought, rather pleased.

“You're the worst,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, pretty much. But I'm the best at it.” Bucky winked.

Steve groaned. “Okay, time-out. I really need you to be serious for a second. I was a douche, whether you deserved it or not.”

“Hey, no need to apologise. . .really, ‘s all good.” Bucky chucled. “Besides, I'm used to Nat beating the shit outta me. You’re gonna need a bit more strength to actually hurt me.”

“Alright, so we’re cool.”

Bucky nodded.

“Nice.”

“No, wait!” _Damn it, Barnes._ Steve raised a brow. “So, you want me to stop with all the flirting and stuff?”

Steve nodded right away.

“Not even friends?” Bucky asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

Steve sighed, then shook his head. “Yeah, alright, we can be friends,” he said, a smile on his lips.

Bucky drew in a long breath of relief.

Steve snorted. “Jesus, are you really into me that much or are you just very good at faking it?”

Bucky went from relieved to outraged in something like two seconds. He was about to open his mouth and say something when Steve laughed hard enough to draw the attention of some passers-by to them.

“That’s what you get for being a smartass,” he said.

It took Bucky a few seconds to understand what Steve was up to. When he did, he joined in with a chuckle. “Alright, I asked for that,” he said.

“So, my _friend_ , wanna go grab a bite tomorrow?” Steve asked.

Bucky’s face lit up and Steve laughed again, murmuring something about Bucky being too easy. “I'll pick you up,” he said.

“Nope, I'll text you the address and the time,” Steve said.

“But I don’t have your—”

Steve extended his arm and made grabbing motions. Bucky gave him his phone. Steve took it and tapped the contacts icon, then dialed his number. Another tap and Steve’s ringtone went off. The song was familiar, definitely old, but Bucky couldn’t remember its name. As soon as Steve got the call, he hung up and returned Bucky’s phone.

“Done. I gotta go now,” Steve said. “You sure you’re free tomorrow?”

Bucky felt like he was in some sort of trance. Did Steve just asked him out? No, he said he wanted Bucky to stop flirting with him. “Sure, schedule’s clear,” Bucky said. He felt like he'd just failed at keeping his cool.

Steve smirked and then waved. “Then see ya!” He walked off.

Bucky waved back, before staring down at his own phone. He laughed when he read the contact’s name. “Rogers, huh?” he murmured to himself.

He was about to hop on his motorcycle when the thought crossed his mind. Steve’s ringtone sounded familiar for a reason.

_Was that Al Green?_

He texted Natasha right away.

> **Ната́ша**
> 
> Is steve a nerd for hitchhikers guide too
> 
> Took you long enough to figure it out.
> 
> Oh mygod
> 
> Hes mu twin soul
> 
> I knew ut hes perfect
> 
> Typos...
> 
> Today he smiled at me??/ he was so cute.,. I love his glasses
> 
> Lol, he’s so gonna see this conversation if you two end up together.
> 
> Do
> 
> Not
> 
> ♡♡♡
> 
> Cmon Youre gonna jinx it!
> 
> He made me promise to stop with the flirtin
> 
> If i wanna stay friends w him
> 
> Also whats ♡ supposed to mean?//
> 
> Nat
> 
> Natasha?
> 
> ?

[...]

Bucky was late. But not super late. Fashionably late. His wardrobe had confused him when it came to choosing which outfit he’d wear. He had three options and, eventually, he had to ask Nat which one would suit him best. Nat had helped him, of course, and then proceeded to tell him off about how late he was.

Bucky rushed down the stairs and hopped on his motorcycle. He didn’t drive too fast, but he took a few risks so he’d regain some minutes. Someone honked, someone yelled at him.

The day had started with clouds and a strong wind, although it looked like the sky would be clear in a few hours, so Bucky was hopeful.

Nat had told him to go for the good-guy look. He had a dark red shirt with a black jacket over it, denims and dark suede shoes. He left just a tiny bit of beard stubble and brushed his hair back. He put on his favourite cologne, at least one of the few he accepted from Stark. It reminded him of the ‘20s and how he’d get ready to look like the perfect gentleman. Even if, back then, he'd thought he was only into ladies.

He found a spot close enough to where Steve had told him to meet. He was still late, but at least he could blame it on the traffic. If there was something that didn’t change over the years, it was traffic, and it was so much worse now than when he'd been young.

Bucky walked down the pavement, to find Steve waiting for him by the traffic lights.

Steve was wearing his khakis and a shirt patterned with squares. His hair was tidy, brushed back. He wasn't wearing his glasses. He also had black shoulder bag and he was staring at Bucky. Once their eyes met, Steve waved at him.

Bucky sped up, stopping right when in front of Steve. “Sorry ‘m late,” he said, breathless.

“It’s alright, we got time,” Steve said.

Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Running (and the helmet) had messed it all up. Steve started strolling, pointing things out to him, as if Bucky was some sort of cloistered old man who didn’t know how to live in the world anymore.

“You know I've been here before, right?” Bucky said as they walked down the street. He never went much outside Brooklyn, but he did spend time with his friends and wandered about a bit near their homes.

Steve looked at him, a bit startled. “Oh. I thought. . .”

“That I'm such a busy person I never go out?” Bucky asked. He was smiling, and stopping himself from chuckling.

“No, I mean— yeah, okay, pretty much that.”

Bucky smiled. “Hate to break it to ya, pal, but I'm pretty sure I should be giving you the tour.”

Steve stopped, they were now in front of a restaurant. _Pea and Tizza’s_ said the sign. “Did New York change to you?”

“Oh yeah, but it’s still New York.”

Steve frowned.

“Meh, ‘s hard to explain, but. . .” Bucky thought for a moment. He didn’t really know how to explain. “Okay, so, you see some friend from your childhood and you remember them, kind of? Like, when you meet them thirty years later and they’ve grown up, you can still make out  their main features and see how they changed over the years?”

Steve, who was still looking at him, nodded briefly, as if he didn't want to interrupt.

“That’s what it feels like. I still see my New York, but it’s a grown-up New York. And I have no idea if this makes any sense—”

“No, no. It does,” Steve interrupted. “I was just wondering what that must feel like. I mean, it’s not like everyone wakes up after a seventy-year beauty sleep and – well, it happens in _Futurama_ , not in real life.”

Bucky chuckled. “At least you guys were prepared for aliens and gods from other worlds. Thank sci-fi and TV for that.”

At that, Steve lit up. “Don’t even get me started – I'd die happy if I got to talk with Thor. Nat told me she’d arrange something but he’s gone back to Asgard and I missed my chance. ”

Bucky nodded sympathetically. “Aw man, that sucks, you should hear Thor telling storiesabout Asgard. He said that our science is just a part of the actual magic-thing that fill the worlds.”

“What?” Steve almost jumped. “Shit, okay, hold that thought, we need to get inside before the waiters come outside to see if we got lost or something.”

Bucky came back to reality, too, looking at the restaurant. Right, food. He'd almost forgotten about it. “Well, after you,” he said as he opened the door for Steve, forgetting himself.

Steve looked like he was deciding whether or not to be unimpressed. Then he sighed and stalked forward. He entered the place, followed by Bucky. _Fuck, not a dame._

A waitress approached them, dark skin and black eyes, her hair was gathered in two big buns. She greeted them and Steve asked if they had room for two people.

The waitress blinked and gave them a knowing smile. Before Steve could say anything, she took them to a private corner of the room, right next to the window. Bucky kept his cool as they sat down and Steve grunted in annoyance.

“Great,” he said.

“What’s up?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

Steve stared at him. “It’s like the universe is against me sometimes, y’know? And it makes me so angry,” Steve rolled his eyes, then sighed again. “Plus, what if someone recognises you or some paparazzi start to annoy the fuck out of you?”

Bucky laughed. “Jeez, you have a potty mouth.” He stopped as soon as Steve’s expression darkened. “Relax, seriously. I don’t care and you shouldn’t either. My privacy went to shit long time ago.”

Steve still looked unhappy.

“Listen, they say all kind of things about me. At least this time it'd be the truth.” Bucky shrugged. “My therapist thinks it’d be good. I tend to hide way too many things – from myself, from others.”

Steve calmed down a bit, something like curiosity on his face. “So, Captain America _is_ queer?”

Bucky winced inwardly at the term.

Steve noticed. “Shit, wait, is that a bad word for you? Do you prefer LGBTQ?”

Bucky sighed and shook his head. “It’s just words with bad meanings from before. At least they’re changing to mean something better.”

Steve smiled a bit, then nodded.

They stopped talking only to order some food, both deciding to go with pizza. Bucky played it safe with a Margherita, while Steve got daring and went with a sweet pizza with no tomato sauce. It had honey, philadelphia cream cheese, nuts and a weird type of bacon. _The fuck is speck ham?_

“That is _not_ a pizza, pal,” Bucky said as soon as their food arrived. “It smells delicious but I will not be tricked. Nossir.”

Steve was smiling as he cut a slice of his pizza.

Bucky resisted the urge to smell it again and went back to cutting his own slice. He was distracted by Steve’s voice when he took the first bite.

“Oh my gawd!” Bucky ignored Steve, who just kept going. “Mmh! This is sooo good. Mmh!”

Bucky resisted as long as he could, until he snapped. “Okay, you gotta let me take a bite now!” he said.

“Are you sure?” Steve laughed and put down his slice of pizza. “Since it's _not_ pizza?”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph. You’re such a punk,” Bucky said.

“It’s only fair. Someone needs to keep up with your jerky-ness,” Steve said, before laughing again.

Bucky shook his head, but really, he liked the way Steve laughed. How he’d raise his shoulders and hide his mouth with both hands, then pull himself together and brush his hair back into place.

“Hey Mr Grumpy Gills, don’t be so mad, c’mon,” Steve said as soon as he got hold of himself again.

Bucky dropped the grumpy act and chuckled. “So, you gonna let me taste that deliciousness nonsense or not?”

Steve nodded and cut him a new slice. Bucky started to lean in and take a bite, then realised that was kind of forward and he should’ve used his hands. He took the slice and thanked Steve.

“Feel free to take some of mine,” he said waving at his Margherita.

He was about to take a bite from Steve's pizza when his phone went off. Their eyes met, and Steve pointed at Bucky's phone with his chin.

Bucky groaned. “Barnes,” he said as he put his phone to his ear.

“Need you to move your ass, Barnes. Fury's sending a jet down the street,” Sam was yelling into the wind.

Bucky could hear explosions in the background, and something that sounded like a scream.

“'m sorry pal, my doctor says that I have a malformed public-duty gland and a natural deficiency—” Bucky said, as he got up from his seat.

“You don't need to save a universe, just goddamn Chicago!” Sam hung up.

Steve was watching with something in his gaze – it looked like curiosity, but not quite. Bucky shrugged it off. It'd have to wait until next time.

“Sorry, emergency. Gotta go,” he apologised. “Can I leave my things? Got some cash in my wallet, you can pay with it.” Bucky’s phone beeped again. “Jeez, I really need to run—”

“Don’t worry, Buck. Go. I'll see you tomorrow,” Steve said.

Bucky nodded, then he ran out of the restaurant, almost tripping when he realised what Steve had said.

 _See you tomorrow._ It almost sounded like too good to be true and it made Bucky’s heart beat faster than it should’ve.

 _And here I was determined to keep my promise,_ he thought. Steve was _so_ going to hate him if Bucky went all flirty on him again.

A few seconds later he was running down the street, following the directions Fury had sent to his phone. A few blocks away, the traffic was being stopped so the jet could land. It only took him a few seconds to jump on the ramp. People were filming, of course – everyone was hyped when a SHIELD jet extracted an Avenger.

“Welcome aboard, Mr Barnes,” JARVIS' voice welcomed him.

Well, that was unusual.

“The hell are you doing here?” Bucky asked. He was already in front of his locker, ready to put the suit on.

“Mr Stark negotiated my inclusion in the system, with limitations,” JARVIS said. “I would like to explain further, but we have little time, and Mr Stark has a message for you.”

“Yeah? Play it,” Bucky said.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

A small pause and then Tony's voice started speaking. “Hi Junior, I got to have fun with your suit and thought you'd like the new upgrades. . .wish I could've finished them. Fury told me to send it anyway, but I'd avoid the red cable if I were you. Gotta check a bunch of things out yet so it doesn't explode.” Metallic sounds interrupted the recording, and Bucky was sure he heard Stark swearing at some point. “Take an appointment with JARVIS while you're at it, any day'll be fine. Have fun in Chicago for me too.”

Bucky snorted. “Roger that.”

He made sure he scheduled the appointment with Stark as later as he could. He had priorities too. He wanted to see Steve as soon as he could, once he got back.

[. . .]

Bucky’s head was pounding. The house was dark and he could barely hear the noises outside his room. He was lying in his king-sized bed - because, if he had to be stranded in the future, he was at least making sure he had a bit of comfort. His head hurt, as well as pretty much all his body. God knew how many hits he’d taken during the Chicago fight.

It had taken them almost an hour to get things under control. Another HYDRA attack on some minor SHIELD facility – but one of the few which had top-level clearance security files. He remembered Fury thanking him from the radio, before he blacked out.

Apparently, the cables that connected his suit to his arm were different from the last ones. Stark had installed some sort of device which emitted a shock wave, but Bucky didn’t know he had to keep still, in order for the shock wave to not backlash onto him. Stark _had_ mentioned something about exploding, although Bucky hadn't realised it would actually make him fly twenty feet away and smash into a building. At least he'd taken out all the HYDRA operatives in a five foot radius.

Considering it was only him, Sam and Wanda, it'd gone pretty smoothly. Except for his arm, which he now couldn’t move. And his head. And his chest. And, _ouch,_ he could just go on and on.

A clang broke the silence on the other side of the door. Maybe it was Natasha? She usually ended up at his house if he was unconscious, so she could make sure he survived the night. He didn't think this was too bad – just another scratch. His stomach hurt as he raised himself up to sit on his mattress. Okay, maybe he did have a few internal injuries as well.

“Shit.”

Bucky froze. The voice was quiet, but it was definitely not Natasha. Bucky stared at the door, his hand sliding down beside his bed to grab his gun.

Steve entered his room, a tray with a mug on it in his hands. They both stopped, and Steve almost dropped the tray when he saw Bucky.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, his voice didn’t rise, but it was clear he was angry.

“What? I should be askin’ that,” Bucky replied.

Steve stalked right over to him him, glaring at Bucky. “Go back to bed, you reckless ass!”

Bucky frowned, but did as he was asked. He laid back down again – but kept staring at Steve, who didn’t look like he was going to talk until that Bucky cooperated. As soon as Bucky made himself comfortable, Steve exhaled and placed the tray on Bucky’s nightstand.

“Nat was going to check on you, so I went with her. ‘Cause I was worried – yes, shut up thank you – and because you disappeared for two days straight.”

“Wait, what? Two days?”

“That’s what happens when you suffer a head trauma, apparently. You just. . .sleep it off on the way back home and _then_ in your bed.” Steve’s voice wasn’t amused.

“Oh,” Bucky mumbled, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Wait, you were worried? About me?” Bucky felt a bit stupid to be asking such a thing. Like it was an absurd concept. He knew people cared about him, though it still felt weird to accept it.

Nat had told him, repeatedly, that he was stupid like that. He didn't look after himself, because that was how men were when he was young. His _Macho-complex,_ she called it.

“Are you always like this when you hit your head?” Steve asked and Bucky sank down a bit in his pillow, eyeing him nervously. At that, Steve sighed. “Yes, I was. . .happy?”

Bucky didn’t reply right away. Steve frowned and looked a little confused. “Okay so, you lost me there. Why are you acting like this?” Steve said again.

“Uhm, good question.” Bucky muttered. “Pass?”

“You're weird, man.” Steve sighed and shook his head. “Alright, since you don’t wanna talk about it, let’s change the subject.”

Bucky was grateful and a bit unsure. He felt almost shy. “Where’s Nat?” he asked.

“She had to leave. Asked me to stay here until you woke up—”

“And probably to tell me I'm an idiot?” Bucky finishd.

Steve snorted. “Almost. She asked me to tell you, and I'm quoting: 'I''ll have Stark’s head if he does something like that again with no instructions'.”

Bucky made a face. Nat was on the warpath.

“Which brings me to the next question,” Steve said. “What the hell happened? And please don’t say, it's confidential or some other bullshit.”

Bucky coughed. “Well, Stark likes to experiment with our gear. He apparently made mine into a giant person-thrower. Y’know, like the tennis balls those machines shoot out.”

Steve frowned. “So this. . .it wasn’t HYDRA? You did this to yourself?”

“Hey! It was an accident,” Bucky said. “Stark told me not to press the button. He didn't say exactly why, is all.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Of course you’d press it, oh my God.”

They both chuckled, but then Bucky had to stop and cough. “Ouch, this is gonna be a hassle,” he complained.

“Yeah, you’re so unlucky to have your healing factor,” Steve said, although he was smiling.

They chatted, and Steve told him how he'd asked the restaurant if to pack up their pizzas, but had to eat them when he found out Bucky was still away. He also told Bucky how much of a pain in the ass he’d had to be so that Nat gave in and took him to Bucky's place.

Bucky told Steve about the fight in Chicago and some funny things that'd happened before he'd gotten blasted into a wall. How he loved working with Sam and Wanda and how they always bitched and snarked on the radio radio during fights.

“Doesn't that chit-chat interfere with the mission, though?” Steve asked.

“Most of the time we're chasing people down, or taking cover, or waiting for someone to blast through the enemy lines. One time Sam screamed 'You ass!' at me and Wanda almost destroyed her comm because of that. . .and I almost missed a hit on this guy. Luckily he was confused by why I was laughing, so I koched him down easily,” Bucky answered.

“Jesus, I'd destroy it too if you screamed into the comm,” Steve said.

Bucky shrugged, then settled in his bed. “Maybe, yeah.”

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed. They were easy enough with each other now to just sit (or lie, in Bucky’s case) there and do nothing. Steve had brought a chair in from the kitchen. They had breakfast, although it was almost four in the afternoon. Bucky'd drunk all the coffee and devoured the cookies Steve brought for him. Now, he was starting to feel sleepy – but he didn’t want to leave Steve alone, or stop chatting.

“Hey Buck,” Steve called out of the blue. “I really wanted to say sorry again. About punching you.”

Bucky turned and looked right into Steve’s eyes. They hadn't opened the curtains, so light filtered dimly into the room. Bucky could see better because of the super soldier serum, but he was sure Steve could see him too.

Steve swallowed. “Y’know, people always make fun of male nurses. There’s so many jokes about us and I hate it, ‘cause I do is important – I help save lives, sometimes,” Steve paused and looked down, then kept going, seeing Bucky was waiting. “Some guys just like to and make fun of me and my colleagues. I got so angry that day, thinking you were like that, and I was a jerk to you. But you were only joking.” Steve sighed, averted his eyes. “Well, I know I didn’t hurt you, physically, but that was still a shitty thing to do.”

“Hey, you said it yourself – I was being persistent and annoying,” Bucky said.

“Yeah but I should’ve told you, not punched you and then tried to justify myself. That doesn’t make me any better than those assholes who jump to conclusions and don’t give a fuck about anything but themselves.”

Bucky stayed silent for a moment, unsure what to say. “That’s really cool of you,” he said eventually.

“Thanks,” Steve said with a smile.

“So, I'll accept your apologies if you accept mine,” Bucky offered hopefully.

Steve smiled, and then nodded. “Aye, aye Cap’n.” He saluted Bucky.

Bucky chuckled. Then, before he knew it, he was drifting back to unconsciousness.

[. . .]

Bucky woke up abruptly with a feeling of dread. Steve went away was the first thought that crossed his mind and left him dumbfounded. He remembered the edge of a dream – maybe more like a nightmare. Steve was next to Bucky, talking to him as he flew the plane down into the ocean. Steve was holding his hand and telling him it was gonna be alright, that it was the only option. The plane crashed into the ice and Bucky had only a moment to realise he'd killed Steve too. Then, everything went black.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts.

Bucky’s breath was harsh and uneven as he turned and saw Steve standing beside the bed. Confusion and relief filled him. “Hey,” he panted. “Sorry, um, I fell asleep.”

Steve frowned, but didn’t reply right away. “'s okay, I washed out the mugs and all in the meantime,” he said. Then, hesitantly. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t reply.

“You screamed in your sleep,” Steve added.

 _Shit,_ Bucky thought. _Shit, shit shit shit._

“It’s, uh,” Bucky turned his head, avoiding Steve's questioning eyes. “Can’t remember, honestly.”

Steve was silent for a bit, but Bucky was way too aware of his presence and how he took a deep breath, before sitting back down beside the bed.

“Do you need something?” he asked.

Bucky was having a hard time thinking about anything at all. He just shrugged.

“What does Nat usually do when this happens?” Steve asked quietly. “If she’s here.” His voice was careful, almost gentle. It felt weird. He didn't think Steve pitied him, but at the moment it was hard to tell the difference.

“She, uh. We watch movies,” Bucky managed to say.

“Do you wanna watch one?” Steve asked.

“Dunno. I've watched a lot of them.” Bucky was almost sure he'd seen everything in the place. “Talking's fine too.” He moved restlessly. “Besides, I'm sick of lying flat,” he added as he pushed himself up with his arm – he could only move one, but it was enough.

“You sure you can do that?” Steve asked, ready to help him.

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Healing factor, remember? Just bruises now.”

Steve glanced at the clock and Bucky followed his gaze. He'd been sleeping for almost four hours. A deep breath and he was sitting on his bed. He sniffed surreptitiously. At least he didn’t smell too gross and sweaty.

“Have you ever played Mass Effect?” Steve asked out of the blue.

Bucky blinked. “What’s that?”

“It’s a game series, it started in 2007. It's cool,” Steve said. “If you like sci-fi.”

Bucky breathed in again, testing his healing ribs. Not too bad. “Sure. I love that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Steve said, grinning. “You’re a big nerd for sci-fi, aren’t you?”

Bucky raised his hand, as if giving up. “You got me, pal.”

“Nat watched an episode of _The Expanse_ from your Netflix when she was here. Your list is _so_ typical, let me tell you.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Excuse you?”

“But then, from someone who can quote the _Hitchhiker’s  Guide to the Galaxy,_ what else could I expect?”

Bucky waved a hand, carefully. “Says the one with Al Green as a ringtone.”

“Ha! You recognised it! See? You’re a nerd, admit it.” Steve pointed at Bucky.

“There’s one thing you still don’t know, though,” Bucky said. He was grinning – the uncomfortable feelings from the nightmare hadn't gone away completely, but talking was helping. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream. He was fine.

“What don't I know?” Steve looked sceptical.

“I love dogs.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, you big goof, of course you'd be a dog person.”

They laughed. Bucky a lot more carefully than Steve, but at least he was chuckling. He sighed and only when Steve gave him questioning look did Bucky realise he’d been staring at Steve the whole time.

“Uh, sor—”

“Buck,” Steve said.

“Yeah?”

Steve was looking ad Bucky somerly, but he didn't look angry. Bucky had no idea what was going on. Maybe he'd stared too much, or maybe he'd done something else wrong that he didn't understand.

Bucky was about to say something, when Steve got up and stood in front of him. “Can I kiss you?”

Bucky’s mouth fell open. “What?”

Steve looked down at him - and Bucky tensed nervously. It felt as if Steve was evaluating him. Steve raised his brows. “That’s even more adorable than the bad boy attitude,” he said.

Bucky’s eyes widened with surprise. Where had this come from. “Ho—hold on a second. What are you talking about? You said you didn’t want—”

“I changed my mind. . .which is really frustrating, since you weren’t trying to get me to, right?” Steve asked.

Bucky could only shake his head.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Steve said when Bucky didn't answer.

“Um, no, just. . .” Bucky struggled to find the words. “Surprised? I thought you. . .well, um.”

Steve laughed, bright and soft, and Bucky held his breath. He was staring at Steve again. “I'm not dreamin’ this, am I?” he muttered under his breath, then blinked and stretched his newly mended ribs. Ouch. Definitely not dreaming.

“Still waiting for an answer, y’know?” Steve said, interrupting Bucky’s thoughts.

Right, the kiss. “Shit, right. Yes, of course. Of course you can!” His enthusiasm was probably obvious, but when he started to stand up, Steve put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and held him in place.

Steve didn’t need strength to hold Bucky and make him understand what he wanted. Bucky didn’t put up any resistance, he just sat back down on the bed with a hopeful gaze.

Steve was smiling as he took a step forward, positioning himself between Bucky’s legs. One hand traced Bucky's jawline and the other slid around the back of his neck and tilted Bucky's head back.

Bucky wanted to do this properly. He'd learned that letting someone take control didn't mean that he was weak. He didn't feel uncomfortable, and it was damn hot. Steve was hot.

“You’re really pretty,” Steve whispered.

Bucky didn't realise he'd been like this for several moments now, while Steve admired him appreciatively. Bucky let Steve hold him and stared into Steve's eyes. The more Steve took his time, the more Bucky was able to breathe properly and relax.

Steve smiled, pleased when Bucky took a deep breath and exhaled. “That's good,” he said. “Feel a bit calmer, now?”

Bucky nodded absent-mindly. Then, When Steve drew closer, it felt like it took him forever.

Steve’s lips were soft against Bucky’s. They moved with confident calm and when Bucky got too greedy, Steve kept the kiss simple and soft. He took his time exploring, before his tongue brushed Bucky’s lips – a request – and Bucky opened his mouth to welcome it.

Steve was a good kisser. He made it feel as if it was easy.

They kissed for some time. After a while, Bucky got to touch Steve. His hand was careful on Steve's side, then on his back. Steve didn't move his hands from Bucky's face and neck, probably because of the chest injuries, even though Bucky wished he would.

“You really should rest,” Steve murmurred after a while, still close so that Bucky could hold him.

“What if I say no? I wanna keep holding you.”

“Well, if you don't, I won’t be keeping you company in this ridiculously enormous bed,” Steve said, grinning.

Now that changed everything. Bucky was already lying back down, waiting for Steve to do the same. Steve was staring at him and laughed as he kicked his shoes off and got in.

“Turn around, I'm the big spoon in this relationship,” Steve said, and Bucky chuckled.

“Aye, aye Cap’n,” Bucky said. He turned over and felt Steve’s arms slide around him to hold him.

He fell asleep almost immediately, tired out, and lulled by Steve’s soft voice.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, that was it!  
> I hope you liked folks, I sure as hell had a blast writing this. Thank you so much for reading and thanks again to inediblesushi for her amazing art. I'm still flailing dsjkdskjdskjdjsk.
> 
> Thanks<3


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